


If I Let You In

by briaeveridian



Series: Crossover AUs [2]
Category: Låt den rätte komma in | Let the Right One In (2008), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bullying, Crossover, F/M, Let the Right One In - Freeform, Vampires, an attempt at low-key horror, i haven't written horror before, implied 1980s timeframe, not that much violence, so this was an experiment, some children die in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briaeveridian/pseuds/briaeveridian
Summary: Ben, a lonely boy living with his widowed mother, meets Rey, who provides a rare chance at friendship. As a series of murders occur in the small town, it becomes clear this stranger might be the reason for the violence. But it already could be too late for Ben, who has begun to feel something far more immediate than fear; love.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Crossover AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918036
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	If I Let You In

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first attempt at low-key horror! I wanted to explore Ben's sardonic streak, too. 
> 
> I love Let the Right One In (you can stream it on Hulu). Seeing the movie provides the greater context of this story. But I wrote it to stand on its own for those who haven't seen it.
> 
> P.S. This is my 13 story 👻

The glass pane of his window creates a phantom reflection, off-color and unfocused. Ben stares at the transparent version of himself that exists within the glass. It is a depiction as insubstantial as he feels. 

When he shifts his eyes the snow-encrusted courtyard outside overwhelms his ghost twin. Overhead, the stars hide themselves in the too-bright courtyard lights. The square plot of land is filled with little more than snowdrifts, mountains of tiny frail frozen crystals that in en masse _threaten_ and _endanger_. It’s an irony that even a twelve-year-old can grasp.

Ben hates winter.

It’s too quiet, unmoving, bleak. The landscape turns to blank spaces smeared with dirt and grime and the air punctures his lungs with every breath. Walking to school becomes a chore not only of the body but of the mind. _Why must I go through this? What will come of this suffering_?

People have always said Ben is mature for his age. He’s under no delusion that this is a compliment. It means he handles the weight of adulthood without complaining. _I guess I should complain more_. Everyone admires his resilience, his intelligence.

He’d exchange these qualities for a family that would hug him. Throw in one single friend and he would never ask for anything ever again. Or so he promises his pillow when trying to fall asleep at night. 

His brain tells him these are pathetic desires, childish in nature and scope. But still, he yearns for some type of companionship. A tether to the world that stresses he’s still alive and human. _Do I want to be human if it means living in isolation_? He shudders.

Bringing his hand to the chilled glass, Ben lets the temperate shift on his skin. His ephemeral counterpart follows the movement without delay. He wonders if they could switch places. He would become trapped in the glass and his ghost would exist in the living world.

Slight condensation confirms he’s still warm, alive.

A car pulls up to the building and Ben watches as a man and a child disembark. They walk trudge to the building, luggage and coats adding lethargy to their steps. Unexpectedly, the child looks up. Ben startles as the girl’s eyes catch his. She’s incredibly pale but looks to be his age.

The hair on his neck sticks up.

She looks away and disappears into the building. Ben stares a bit longer until he feels a hint of exhaustion. He slips into bed as sounds come from the apartment next door.

His last thought is an amorphous longing that she could be _someone_ to talk to.

  


* * *

  


The kids at school are some of the worst people on earth. Ben hasn’t met that many people, but the level they stoop to in an effort to degrade and humiliate has to set them apart. Every day they make a point to call him out, for his clothes, nose, or ears.

When they’re at their foulest, they inflict pain.

Today their punishment for him being himself is a punch to the face. Ben stands against a tree on the playground, strategically selected to avoid any problematic looks from supervisors. He reflectively touches his face after the impact, cheekbone stinging. _That will leave a mark_.

The three of the boys smirk at him, eyes lit and teeth bared. He used to feel fear. Now there’s a strange resignation. But the shame persists, as it always does.

“Look at little Benny-boy, are you going to cry, baby? Are you going to squeal like a baby?” Their taunts are elementary, which makes sense of course. Ben considers running because he’s tired of the timbre of their voices, the arch of their arrogant eyebrows. He’s tired of being stuck in one place, feeling powerless and abused.

“Why do you care if I cry?”

The question takes them off-guard.

“Because we don’t like crybabies, _Benny-boy_ ,” the leader spits. Ben tilts his head and runs his tongue along his lip, knowing it doesn’t look threatening but not caring. He wishes he had a knife to bring slices of apple to his mouth. _That always works in movies_.

“You’re a freak, you know that? No friends, no life. You’re pathetic.”

Ben doesn’t reply and the older kids tire of the game.

“You better not tell anyone where you got that bruise. Or else next time it’ll be much worse.” They move away from him, a horde of tiny creatures swarming together like gnats. He sighs heavily and works his jaw.

His mother won’t buy any excuse he can manufacture. She also won’t give a shit.

  


* * *

  


“You fell on the balance bars,” Leia says flatly.

“Yes.”

“Ben, is there something going on at school? Something I should know about?”

The question comes automatically and Ben knows no follow-through is likely. On paper, it is valid and comforting. In reality, his mother is overworked, absent, traumatized by a past she won’t discuss. This past includes Ben’s father. He’s only tried to ask a few times about it.

“Nothing is going on, mom.”

“You need to be more careful. Whatever is happening, I don’t want to see you hurt.” Leia flicks her wrist absently, her thoughts elsewhere. She means what she says but words have never been enough.

“It’s fine, really. I’m going into the courtyard.”

She’s looking out the window as she nods. It’s no surprise she won’t press. He desperately wishes she would. _Please show me you love me_. The desperate plea echoes within him, unheard and unheeded.

Ben grabs his coat, gloves, and knife and stumbles down the hallway. His face aches. He wishes at least his mother had recommended aspirin. _I could have asked_.

The sun has already set. Warm air that escapes his lungs creates miniature clouds before him, each one temporary and forlorn. A tiny fluttering hope takes wing inside his chest. _If I don’t think about it, maybe it’ll go away_.

No one’s about so he pulls out the knife he took from his mother’s drawer and confronts a narrow tree.

“I’ll make you squeal,” he barks. Jabbing at the tree he makes contact. It’s satisfying, somewhat, to feel the small blade sink into the bark. He does it once more, hoping that through practice he’ll increase his resolution.

“What are you doing?”

He whirls around and clutches the knife. Her arrival was silent. She stands on the snow-encrusted jungle gym without a coat or hat. Her shoes don’t look warm, either.

“Nothing,” Ben huffs.

She jumps onto the ground but there’s a specific graceful glide to the movement, like an invisible string keeping her aloft despite the pull of gravity. 

“What happened to your eye?”

“It was… an accident.” 

She tilts her head, trying to puzzle him out.

“I can’t be your friend,” the girl says finally.

For a moment he worries she can read his thoughts. Perhaps she can see the desperation on his face. He flushes in embarrassment.

“What makes you think I want to be your friend?”

The words hang in the air, bolstered by the thickness of the cold.

He notices her brown hair that hangs in clumps. Her eyes look far away, sunken. Ben worries she doesn’t eat enough.

Without another word she leaves. Strangely, the snow remains untouched by footprints.

Ben shudders despite his coat.

  


* * *

  


The next evening he sits on the jungle gym with his Rubik’s Cube, unwilling to spend any more time in the house with his despondent mother. He remembers a time when she smiled, laughed. But that was too long ago. She’s trapped in the anguish of the past.

He senses someone behind him but doesn’t turn. Already he knows it’s the girl. 

She walks quietly on the snow and sits behind him. Ben decides to ignore her. After a while, she speaks.

“You came back.”

“ _You_ came back.” He keeps fiddling with the Rubik’s cube.

“I want to be left alone.”

“Same here. You should go away. I’ve lived here a lot longer than you.”

She doesn’t respond but he feels her looking over his shoulder.

“What is that? Some kind of puzzle?”

“Yeah…” Her interest dampens his frustration. _She’s so close_. He decides to set his hurt aside. “You can borrow it, give it back tomorrow.”

“I may not be here tomorrow,” she says somberly.

“The next day is fine. You just turn the sides to match up the colors.” Ben swivels his body to show her. The girl takes the cube gingerly and a subtle shift in the wind makes his nose twitch. “You smell funny.”

Her eyes dart to his but she doesn’t respond. Ben watches her figure out the mechanics of the cube.

“Really, what happened to your face?” Her voice mimics the snow, crisp and frigid.

“I already told you,” he replies defensively.

Her brows furrow. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” She returns to the cube.

“Don’t you feel cold?”

“No. I guess I’ve forgotten how.”

Ben looks away, confused by her sentence. As much as he wants the company, the girl unsettles him.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ben lowers himself onto the snow. He wants to say more, to ask why she won’t be his friend. _I don’t have any friends. I would like to have just one_. Biting his tongue he starts shuffling through the snow.

“My name is Rey,” she calls.

He turns, bewildered by her inconsistent demeanor. 

“I’m Ben.”

It’s too far to tell if she’s smiling but Ben decides to believe she is.

  


* * *

  


Two days pass before he sees her again.

He spots her entering the courtyard, holding the cube, the same inadequate attire as before. She looks even more feeble and hollowed out. Her penumbra eyes barely restrain their hunger.

“Are you okay?”

Rey glances at him and offers the cube. It’s complete, each side fully solved. She ignores his question.

“Thanks. It was the only fun thing I’ve had.”

“Where were you? I’ve… looked for you.” He can’t help how creepy it sounds.

“Plutt wanted me to stay inside.”

She sits beside him on the bench. The bulb above them flickers rhythmically until it manages to sustain its flood of cold light. Ben dangles his feet over frozen mud, trying to decide what to say.

“Is Plutt your dad?”

“No. My parents died a long time ago.”

“Well, it looks like he’s doing a crappy job of it.” Ben gestures at her.

“I’m not eating enough. That’s true. But he does his best.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. My dad died too. Now my mom walks around like a zombie. I remind her of him.”

“That’s sad,” Rey replies. Her expression doesn’t match the words but somehow, he can tell she’s being sincere.

“How did your parents die?”

“Protecting me,” she says vaguely. Rey shifts to stand and Ben follows.

“From what?”

She glares at him, eyes deep as pits. He recoils and tries to find his footing. The air sloshes dangerously and at once, Ben feels his skin prick from the peril pouring from her.

Just as abruptly, she doubles over onto the ground and emits soft grumbling noises. Both of her arms wrap around her stomach while she winces. It’s painful to observe and Ben has no idea what to do. He lurches toward her.

“Rey, what’s going on? Are you hungry? I can bring you something to eat…”

He rests a hand on her shoulder, which makes her jolt. “Don't… touch me,” she snarls through viciously pointed teeth.

Ben stumbles backward, landing in the snow. “I’m... sorry.”

He stands inelegantly and considers going home. But he can’t make himself leave her. Not like this, alone and in pain.

“Should I get Plutt?”

Rey’s body gradually loses its tension. She glances up at him, the previous menace replaced by something more fragile.

“No. If he sees me like this he won’t let me come out again.” Her voice is softer than before and Ben comes closer. “I scared you. I’m sorry.”

He stares at her silently for some time. Pulling herself into a crouch, she rocks on her heels. After a while, she speaks.

“I’ve been thinking about your problem.”

“My problem?” he asks slowly.

“The kids at school. They bully you. You can’t deny it. I smell them on you. Your fear, too.”

Ben turns white.

“I saw you practicing with your knife. You want to hurt them more than they’ve ever hurt you. Show them they can’t mess with you anymore. If you don’t, nothing will change.”

He sees the truth in this but is still hesitant to take that step. “It’s my dad’s old knife. Probably too dull to do any real damage.” There’s more to say but he’s not ready to elaborate. And he doubts she cares enough to listen.

“That’s easy to fix.” She rises to her feet looking stronger. 

Ben pauses, an idea beginning to take shape. “There’s a self-defense class I could join. I could learn how to protect myself.” He notices the fallen cube and picks it up, deciding it will stay in this completed state.

When he looks over at Rey he finds her expression curious.

“If you’re bored… we could send each other messages through the wall.” It’s a shy offer but intended to be tossed between them nonchalantly. He’s unsuccessful but she doesn’t seem to be bothered.

“How?”

“Morse code. I think you will pick up fast since you figured out the Rubik’s cube.” 

There’s such hesitation on her face Ben sucks in his bottom lip, about to retract the offer.

“Okay.”

His heart flips. “Great. I’ll slip a piece of paper under your door tonight describing everything.”

Rey nods, mouth slightly open and eyebrows raised. 

“Okay.... See you tomorrow!” he calls, dashing inside. 

He feels her eyes track him until he’s out of sight.

  


* * *

  


After dinner, Ben slyly shoves a folded paper under Rey’s door. 

There’s a newspaper on the kitchen table, the front page is covered with stories of missing people and no leads. Leia sits nearby and stares off into space. He almost asks her about it, if she’s worried but thinks better of it.

By the time he gets into bed, his resolve not to reach out yet disappears. 

**_Hi_** , he taps out on the wall.

 ** _Hello, Ben_** , comes back at once. He grins as he falls asleep.

  


* * *

  


He wakes to thumping. Clearing his head, Ben realizes the source and starts translating the message. 

**_Good morning. Have a pleasant day, Ben_**.

 ** _Thanks. You too, Rey_**.

The simplicity of having someone to connect with nudges a hidden seed inside of him. The seed reacts, having wanted to search for the light for so long but having little energy to do so. Rey provides that energy, pulsating and vibrating through him. The unfamiliarity of it brings a strange tingling to his mind, a peripheral amazement that makes his day less gloomy.

He survives school without incident, mostly because he feels himself floating above everything. Ben seems to have plugged in to something that allows him to avoid the bullies, deal with the absurdity of his classmates, and even breathe through his impatience. There's magic to it, this unexpected ability.

Ben feels more capable than ever before.

The first self-defense class increases his confidence more than it really should. Ben imagines this is what being drunk is like; assured, unbothered, appreciating the half-fullness of life rather than the half-emptiness. It’s much at odds with his usual disposition and quite addictive.

With no one in sight, Ben practices his new moves on the lone tree in the courtyard. His stance turns from defense to attack quickly, however, and he’s soon gasping for breath after sending his knife into the trunk. He’s eager and strong _wanting to inflict wounds rather than feel them anymore_.

Rey’s voice pulls him to the present.

“It looks like you’re feeling braver. At least against the tree.” She’s teasing and to his astonishment, he likes it.

Grinning, he looks at her. “I think I can face them.”

“Not yet. You’re too… jittery. You have to find a calm space within yourself before truly hurting someone.”

Ben’s eyes widen at her words. “How do you know?”

Rey tilts her head and doesn’t respond.

“You look better. Plutt got you food?”

“Yes. Sometimes he is successful. Other times his failure is hard to accept. But he has done so much for me over the years...”

“You don’t talk like a kid.” It’s something he’s been curious about but knew it wasn’t appropriate to ask yet.

“I’m not a kid,” she says, shadowed eyes still and calculating, like prey spotted in the distance.

“What does that mean?” His deep confusion leaks out, brow scrunched and voice raised, hands out to grasp at some tendril of understanding.

“There’s nothing more I can give you. This is the extent of it,” she says softly, arms hanging at her sides. 

“Okay. I won’t ask for more.” It seems like a simple enough compromise, to quell his inquiries in exchange for the friendship. He wants Rey to feel comfortable, safe. “Do you ever get lonely?”

The question escapes him before he realizes it has taken shape.

“Yes.”

“Me too. I don’t feel lonely around you, though.” He blanches. “I don’t mean anything by that. Just… I’m grateful. You moved in.” Ben drops his head, letting his long black hair hide his blush.

Rey doesn’t respond but when he looks up her eyes are lit strangely, like tiny candles inside her skull.

After a coalescing silence she speaks.

“You’re peculiar.”

“So I’ve heard.”

  


* * *

  


More deaths decorate the front page of the newspaper. Ben scours the stories for information, oddly fixated on the violence. Very little happens in his town. This spate of murders requires consideration.

And something about it nags at him. Something that feels _close at hand_.

Every morning he wakes to Rey tapping a greeting and falls asleep telling her things. Secrets and wishes and plans. She doesn’t reciprocate but gives him respect and space to share.

Ben has never experienced such intimacy. He trusts her quickly, implicitly. The _danger_ that swirls within her small, pale body doesn’t scare him anymore. He knows that she won’t hurt him.

Over the following days, he starts to know something else.

“Why don’t I see you during the day?”

“I can’t go out.” She hands him the bag of books he lent her only twenty-four hours previously. “Thanks for these.” He’s only somewhat amazed she read them so rapidly.

“You can’t go out? Because of the sun?”

Rey’s head snaps toward him. “Why do you say that?”

“You’re very pale.”

She narrows her eyes and changes the subject.

“How is it going with the bullies?”

“Still managing to avoid them. Or they’ve moved on.” Ben sniffs, the cold penetrating his bones. “Where did you live before?” He means it casually but he quickly recognizes his mistake.

“I told you I can’t say anything else.” Her voice whips the air into a frenzy. Ben doesn’t recoil this time, instead, he lets her fury subside. Glancing up, the stars call out. Several of them blink riotously, creating a Morse code more ancient than he can grasp.

“I know you don’t want me to. But I think I know something about you. And about the murders happening,” he enunciates slowly, each syllable an invitation to his own demise. _But probably not. She would have killed me already. Right_?

Rey jumps onto the ground. “Whatever you think, you’re just a silly child. No one would believe you. No one listens to you as it is.”

His heart constricts and he’s close to tears quickly. There is no hiding his truth from her. She sees every shrouded corner and embarrassing wrinkle of his being. It is a slow-motion flaying, that leaves him entirely revealed.

She turns to him, once more gentle. “Ben, please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Numbly, he nods. Her eyes dart to his neck where his pulse races within the vein.

“What if we make a blood pact? You don’t have to tell me anything. But that way… we’re bonded.”

It’s the most direct proposition he’s ever suggested. Rey grimaces, a pained expression that corrupts her face. Wild with the idea, Ben pulls his knife out, going off of impulse alone to slice his hand. 

At the sight of blood, Rey’s eyes turn to the black of space between the stars, chasms of nothing and yawning, endless depths. 

Ben regrets what he’s done. He hadn’t actually thought she was a vampire, not really. The idea had only been an internal joke, something that brought intrigue to the already fully confounding mystery of Rey.

Her chest grows and shrinks rapidly, pulling at air or shaking from the sheer force of her heartbeat. With a pleading, apologetic look, she lunges for his hands and laps at the blood.

Ben jumps as her tongue swipes at the pooling redness. He feels a brief pressure of teeth before she shuts her eyes. Then, as if the world had turned inside out, she grabs his face and kisses him, short and forceful. It leaves him trembling, a trace of his blood smeared on his lips.

She runs away, faster than any human legs should be able to go. The door of the apartment building swings shut with a little click. Ben stares, heart splintering from shock and joy and fear as the blood from his hand drips to the snow.

Stunned and utterly overwhelmed, Ben eventually looks down. _The blood looks so beautiful on the snow_. Each drop sits frozen, perfectly round and crimson, solid as his flesh.

Knowing the kind of creature she is does not make him want her any less.

  


* * *

  


**_I’m afraid nobody knows me_ **

**_But I do_** , Ben replies at once.

**_Maybe I will let you in_.**

  


* * *

  


Leia rouses him. 

“Our new neighbor has been in a terrible accident. He’s in the hospital. Have you met his daughter?”

“Yes. She’s my friend. Is he okay?”

Ben sits up, trying to shake away sleep.

“I don’t know.” Leia rests like a stone, listless and vacant. She touches his shoulder awkwardly. “You know I love you, right?”

He can’t recall the last time she said it. Probably before his father’s death. Before their life became a cave of darkness, isolation, and grief.

“I love you, too, mom.”

She doesn’t smile, only nods stiffly. “You’d better get ready for school.”

  


* * *

  


  
Ben rushes to the self-defense class, having been delayed by his teacher. He should have known better than to submit an essay entitled _Modern Day Vampires_. But he let his excitement get the best of him, _for once_. When his response made Mr. Teka’s shoulders relax, Ben knew he had done enough to lower any warning flags. 

As he rounded the corner, his own flags go up fast enough to make him stumble. The three primary bullies stand before Ben, spread across the hallway, blocking his path.

“No self-defense class today, Benny-boy. Better be ready to practice what you’ve learned.”

They rush him, grabbing each of his arms. With no other options, Ben kicks violently against the tightly clasped arms that drag him backward. _No, no, NO. This is not supposed to be happening anymore_!

A wave of helplessness hits him so aggressively he splutters, unable to breathe properly from the familiar rage and ineptitude. _Rey thought I could be stronger than this_! He chokes on a sob before one of his captors smacks him on the head.

“Oh, Benny-boy is going to cry now? Can’t say we’re shocked.”

They tug him into the aquatics room and the leader bolts the door. There’s another boy by the pool, a less enthusiastic bringer of pain and fear. _He’s probably here just to watch_.

Without any warning, they throw Ben into the pool. Water invades his lungs as he thrashes to the surface. Gasping, Ben jumps to the side of the pool. But the primary ghoul lowers himself and slams a hand onto Ben’s forehead.

“You’re not going anywhere. You are going to hold your breath for three minutes or I’ll stab you in the eye with your knife.”

The older boy brandishes the blade and laughs. Ben hadn’t even realized they’d removed it from his pocket. He curses himself for bringing it to school. _The only thing I have of my dad’s_. His heart sinks so low he worries it will drag him to the bottom of the pool.

“Better take a deep breath.” The boy grins and forces Ben under the water too soon. He’d only gulped a partial lungful. After several protracted seconds, his chest turns to fire and an urgency to _rise, rise, rise_ possesses him.

Suddenly, the arm holding his head drops into the water. Without the pressure forcing him down, Ben bursts through the surface, clutching at his throat. He sucks in air ravenously. When the realization that the arm is dismembered and floating, blood seeping into the water and bone sticking out, he screams. Dashing backward, Ben tries to avoid the growing circle of red that radiates from the ripped flesh and vessels. The skin is torn jaggedly along the upper bicep and a flash of broken bone catches the dull light. His stomach protests violently, a retch seizing his body.

His senses expand precipitously to note the greater chorus of shrieks ricocheting around the room, amplified by tile and high ceiling. Beside the pool the main bully sprawls out, his remaining limbs still, eyes wide with a frozen horror Ben is sure he’ll never forget. He’s not sure how the boy died but his curiosity is not strong enough to investigate.

A blur of movement calls his attention to the perimeter of the pool. Two more additional bodies lay crumpled separately. One is a heap, joints bent at excruciating angles and the other covered in blood, his features not even visible. 

The boy unwilling to get his hands directly dirty sits still, face a mess of fright, despair, and resignation. 

Rey doesn’t spare that boy another glance.

She reaches a hand out for Ben’s and he takes it. The water and shock leave him shivering, only made worse by the temperature of her hand. But as soon as he touches her, something clicks into place. _She killed them. For me_. 

He becomes resolute.

  


* * *

  


Ben sits on the train, watching the landscape abstracting itself in long sweeps of color. A multitude of details are lost in the rush to _get away from here_. He sighs heavily, trying to steady his thumping heart.

Beside him sits the large suitcase and a dolley he purchased with the small amount of savings he’d managed to collect for the last five years. He has no idea what to do next. Such uncertainty is neither welcome nor familiar. All the same, excitement thrums through him.

A small tapping from the suitcase makes his heartbeat increase.

 ** _Promise you’ll never leave me_**.

 ** _Never_** , he taps back. Ben smiles, knowing he gets to spend the rest of his life with someone who loves him, who wants him. For such gifts, he will gladly become the monster she needs.

**Author's Note:**

> ✨Thank you for reading ✨ 
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://briaeveridian.tumblr.com/) where my SW obsession lives aggressively.


End file.
